The Sunrise is Singing
by Kinti
Summary: At Hogwarts in 1977, Cathy Phelan couldn't feel more detached from the war that is raging across the country. Bonds of friendship and love are forged within those walls, but it's only once you get outside that they're truly tested.
1. The Perpetual Enemies of Woman

CHAPTER 1 - The Perpetual Enemies of Woman

As always, the stars were already out by the time the castle appeared on the far-off horizon. A half-moon was out, hovering among purple clouds and casting an eerily beautiful white light over the surrounding mountains. It looked perfectly still and silent, and I could almost pretend that it stretched through the window and –

"James Potter! Get your fat arse off my seat!" Ah well, I could dream. I tore my eyes away from the wonderful scene outside to return back to the homely lamplight of the train compartment. I sat surrounded by the all of my friends - together again after the long summer holiday. We'd met up briefly in the last few months, but never all together, and in my case, mostly just the girls. I would be prepared to bet that James and Sirius had spent their third summer together at James' planning all sorts of pranks. No doubt they intended to go out with a bang – to carve their name forever in Hogwarts legend. It had been Sirius who shouted on returning to the compartment, no doubt after paying a visit to some girl or other, to find James sprawled across two seats with his feet up. James just grinned up at his best friend, so Sirius launched himself and flopped, heavily, onto James' knees.

"Ouch! OK, OK, you big lump! I'll shift!" Disgruntled and muttering under his breath, James swung his legs back round and budged up so that Sirius had enough room to sit down again.

I caught Lily's eyes, which she rolled to the heavens with a sigh. I smiled. My best friend had never had much time for childish antics, particularly anyone else's. She was incredibly mature, and was already taking her newly bestowed Head Girl-ship very seriously. Then again, with James Potter as Head Boy she would have to, just to stop the school from sinking into anarchy. James Potter as Head Boy. Now there was something that no one had expected. He hadn't even been a Prefect. My gaze slid over to the other Gryffindor Prefect. Remus' eyes had not once left his book. I smiled fondly. I'm not sure that there was anyone at Hogwarts that I trusted more – not even Lily. Remus was the sort of person who always had an ear ready to listen, and would never judge (or, more importantly, pass on) what he heard. It was often very refreshing to have someone like that after spending week after week in close quarters with the same few people. Next to him sat a massive pile of sweets – the result of all seven of us pooling our money together, some giving more than others. James' family was very rich, so he'd bought most of the food that we'd been picking at throughout the afternoon. Sirius' family had also inherited a great deal, not that Sirius was ever going to get his hands on any of it. Any money he now owned came from the job he'd taken at Ollivander's over the summer. At first, Mr. Ollivander had been a bit reluctant to take anyone on to help, afraid they might mess up his sorting system (still known only to him, despite Sirius' best efforts), but eventually he'd had to admit that he wasn't as agile as he used to be – although I'm not sure he was particularly happy when Sirius pointed that out – and he'd come to rely on Sirius scampering up and down ladders to fetch wands during the summer.

This massive heap of sweets and cakes had been my ideal opportunity to test my new-found self-restraint. I glanced down at the pile of wrappers next to me. Oops. There went my first day of healthy eating. Still, compared to James my crime was pretty paltry. The amount of food that these boys could stuff away was incredible! Even now, Sirius was reaching for yet another Chocolate Frog, and yes, Mary was still watching him. For months now, Lily, Dorcas and I had been quizzing Mary MacDonald about her – fairly obvious – crush on Sirius Black. For months now, she had been denying it. I sighed inwardly. Sirius' casual good looks made girls go dippy on a regular basis, but I'd thought Mary had more sense. She was very pretty, but when it came to boys her track record was terrible. Still, at least she had a track record. Lily had really annoyed James by having a few of relationships over the last two years (not that she'd had that goal in mind) but none of these had lasted. Dorcas had had the odd date here and there, but nothing lasting. This wasn't through lack of offers, but Dorcas' explanation was always that didn't want to be distracted from schoolwork. Mary, however, had had quite a few boyfriends, none of which had lasted more than a couple of months. This meant that with depressing regularity we were dragging a tearful Mary down to the kitchens for a cup of tea or hot chocolate and an explanation of precisely why the latest guy was a git, an idiot and a bastard who was clearly nowhere near good enough for an amazing girl like her. This thing was, this was mostly true, poor girl. More often than not, her relationships ended with crying and shouting. Still, it was useful being friends with the self-appointed Prank Masters of the school for occasions such as these. It was great for Mary to see the twit who'd cheated on her or ditched her in some other cruel way to walk into Transfiguration the next day with pig trotters, only able to speak in grunts. Wakelin had never been able to prove who'd done it, but he suspected.

And yet despite seeing all the rubbish that Mary (and to a much lesser extent, Dorcas and Lily) had been put through, I wanted in. Maybe it was my fault. I'd been asked out hadn't I? A grand total of once, in my fourth year. James and Sirius still laughed about how at the expression on my face when Josephs approached me, but I'd never spoken to the boy before! I was so stunned that I said no without thinking. I'm not sure he minded though. I still suspected that it may have been a dare, not that I'd shared this thought with anyone. Lily would tell me I was being ridiculous and then launch into her 'let's-build-Cathy's-self-esteem-up-from-rock-bottom' talk. It varied each time, but normally involved chocolate (pinched from Remus' seemingly never-ending stash) and telling me I'm gorgeous. I love Lily. I really do. I don't think she's ever put a single person before herself. Small wonder James likes her so much.

I wrenched myself away from that train of thought and my eyes rested on the last person in the compartment. Peter hadn't said anything for a while, but he was hanging onto James and Sirius' every word as they chattered away about Quidditch (for some stupid reason they were both huge Stingers. Why, I had never found out.) Of the entire group, I knew Peter the least well, even though we shared nearly all of our classes. He was very sweet, but he was quite quiet when we girls were around; not surprising considering James was always trying to impress Lily, and he and Sirius were naturally boisterous enough for the four of them anyway.

"We'd better get into our robes." Remus had closed his book and was looking out of the window at the distant lights from the approaching castle.

"Come off it, Moony, we've got ages!" James was lounging back in his seat and helping himself to another Pumpkin Pasty. Remus winced, as he always did when they used that nickname. Not particularly surprising, as it alluded to a rather embarrassing incident in our third year that involved Remus and, unluckily, Professor Kettleburn as he made his way towards the forest. Remus hated it when anyone mentioned it, so let's just say that it had involved a prank played by James and Sirius on their friend that left him briefly sans trousers. I was amazed that Remus had been willing to remain friends with them after that! Still, all four of them had their weird nicknames. Peter was Wormtail, thanks to yet another prank that had given him a rat's tail when he came down to breakfast one morning. Sirius was Padfoot (no one really knew where that had come from) and James was Prongs (again, we'd never been included on this secret, but Sirius had hinted at one point that it had something to do with forks).

The rest of us agreed with Remus, however, so James had to move as people hauled down their trunks and rootled around for their robes.

"So ladies, will we have the pleasure of seeing you change this evening?" Sirius said, winking. This made Mary blush like crazy, but the rest of us just ignored him. You get used to these things. A part of me wished that I could come up with some witty retort, but my head was blank. Our robes were pulled on over our Muggle clothes anyway, so we didn't need to bother leaving the compartment. Other people found them annoying, but I loved my witch's robes. I loved the way they billowed behind me as I walked and made a brilliant swishing sound as they trailed along the ground.

We still had about an hour before we would pull into Hogsmeade Station, so once everything was packed away (and the rest of the food had somehow vanished mysteriously into James' pockets), we settled back in our seats, and the conversation started up again.

"You realise," said Remus quietly, "That this is the last time we'll get the train like this, all together?"

"Moony don't talk like that!" James said, "Don't make everything this year about the 'lasts'!"

"It is though," said Lily, "but they've been good haven't they, the last six years."

"Brilliant, Evans," winked James, "Care to make Year Seven even better?"

Lily didn't honour his remark with a reply, instead she folded her arms and started up a new conversation with Mary.

"So, Phelan," said James, turning to me, "See much Quidditch over the summer? Hope you weren't too disappointed with the ever-so-predictable result!" He grinned, while I tried to ignore the flush that was inching its way up my neck.

"I saw quite a few games, thanks," I replied, "And I'll have you know we did pretty well!"

"Couldn't beat the Wasps though, could you!" cut in Sirius, "We reign supreme!" And he started to make a buzzing noise through his teeth, which was soon taken up by James.

"Well, the Wasps do favour the brute-strength tactic," I said, "But that's hardly quality Quidditch, When it comes to teamwork, agile flying and sheer _skill_, our bold Irish lads could whip you any day!"

Neither of them responded, but their buzzing became louder. It was true that the Kenmare Kestrels - the team that I'd supported all my life - had been defeated by the Wimbourne Wasps over the summer. It had been a good game though, even if the Kestrels had been prevented from using all their best moves by the vicious Wasp Beaters. The three of us had seen it togehter, and I'd had to put up with gloating both in person and in letters for weeks afterwards.

"Buzz, buzz, buzz!" Sirius sang in my ear, "Fly away, little kestrel, before we sting you!"

I ignored him, turning instead to Peter. "Did you see any Quidditch this summer?" I asked, "You support the Arrows, don't you?"

He nodded, "And we beat the Wasps," he said, "Hence you're getting all the stick. Sorry."

"Good for the Arrows!" I said, ignoring Lily and Dorcas becoming more and more frustrated by the incessant buzzing, "Although hopefully you won't play so well on Sunday! I'm afraid I'll have to disown you for a day when we battle it out."

Peter grinned, "What will you do if the Arrows win?" he asked

"Disown you forever," I said, "I'm afraid I'd never be able to speak to you again, Peter Pettigrew!"

"It'd be almost worth it!" he laughed. I punched him on the arm, laughing as well.

"Just for that, you'll never be rid of me now!"

"Oh, the horror!" He managed to duck my second punch. Unfortunately, my arm kept swinging so I managed to whack Remus, who finally looked up from his book. It also had the effect of shutting James and Sirius up, as they looked at us, astonished.

"Come on, Phelan," cried James, "What did Moony ever do to you?"

Remus pretended to look hurt, but his eyes were twinkling. I leant over and gave him a hug.

"I'm so, so sorry, Remus," I said, looking up at him and trying to contain a giggle, "Is there anything I can do to make it better? Buy you chocolate? Be your slave for life?"

"Actually, that's not a bad idea," Sirius cut in, "You could take advantage of this, Moony!"

"It's fine, Cathy," Remus said, unable to keep up the act, "It was a pitiful punch anyway!"

"Can you stop squashing me now?" Peter piped up. It was only then that I became aware of how it must have looked. I was leaning across Peter's lap with my arms around Remus' neck. No wonder Mary and Dorcas were giggling.

I sat up hurridly, not looking at James. One of Lily's eyebrows was raised. I knew that look. She was theorising; putting two and two together. I would probably find out later if she'd made three or four. In order to not draw any more attention to myself, I dug in my bag and brought out the latest book I was reading. There wasn't much time left to get very far, especially as it was written in Ogham, but I buried my face in it and waited for them all to resume their own conversations. Ogham was an ancient Irish alphabet that I'd had to study on my own, as our Ancient Runes Professor didn't consider it to fall under 'true runes'.

Soon after, Lily, James and Remus left the compartment to do one last patrol of the corridors before we arrived in the station. Despite James' new post, Remus was still keeping all of his Prefect duties. He and Lily had made a formidable team for the previous two years; no one had dared to put a toe wrong, save for the usual suspects. Sirius stretched out like a cat across the newly vacant seats.

"So, ladies," he purred, "It's just you and me now. And Wormtail," he added as an afterthought.

Both Peter and Mary turned bright red at his comment. I exchanged a look with Dorcas over the top of my book. Desperate to break the awkward silence, Peter gestured at the page I was reading.

"What's it about?" he said.

"It's a book of Irish legends," I responded, "Philip gave it to me."

"Your brother?" Sirius said, turning to face me.

"No, Philip Wagstaff, Beater for the Wigtown Wanderers."

"How is your brother?" I'd never understood the admiration that Sirius and James felt for my brother, considering how much store he set by rules. Philip had been in his Seventh Year when I had joined Hogwarts. He'd been a Ravenclaw, Head Boy, Quidditch Captain, President of the Gobstones Club, star student and anything else you cared to mention. I should have been fiercely jealous of his success, especially considering that I had no hope of living up to his reputation, but he was unfailingly kind and patient on top of everything else. I couldn't have wished for a sweeter, more protective elder brother.

"He's fine," I replied, "You saw him over the summer. Nothing's changed since then. Mama's still fussing over wedding plans."

"Philip's getting married?" said Dorcas.

I nodded, "At Easter," I said, "And you're all coming whether you like it or not. Máiréad's a Muggle, so I'm going to need help keeping all of my relatives under control."

Sirius grinned, "No problem," he said, "I can't wait to meet your Uncle Lorcan again!"

"No," I said, blanching, "No way! My teddy bear's still a bit pink." That was the trouble when the boys met someone just like them. They get ideas. Add a couple of glasses of Firewhiskey and you have a problem. A big problem.

Sirius burst out laughing remembering the previous Easter. "OK," he said finally, "We'll behave. The Muggles won't have a clue."

* * *

Piling eight people into a carriage meant for six is no mean feat. James was grinning happily the entire way up to the castle; Lily had let down her defences for a minute and left a bit of space next to her. I was impressed, actually. This time last year he'd have been offering her a space on his lap to make room for the rest of us. Maybe that boy was finally growing up. I myself was sandwiched in between Remus and Dorcas, and Lily was looking at me again, a small smile on her face. I pretended not to notice, and started up a rather cramped conversation with Dorcas. She'd been to Switzerland with her family over the summer, so hadn't had a chance to meet up with anyone and was eager for news. Her family were almost impossibly wealthy, so every holiday Dorcas would be in another country with her five brothers and sisters.

The carriage gave a violent judder along the uneven ground. "Wormtail, sit more in the middle!" Sirius cried, "You're making the whole thing shake!"

I stared at him. He'd probably meant it as an innocent joke, but Peter looked as though he didn't know whether to laugh or cry. I opened my mouth to say something, but Remus beat me to it.

"Sirius, that was uncalled for," he said, "You could really upset someone if you keep talking like that."

I don't think that many of us saw Peter smile at Remus in gratitude. He'd have never said anything of his own accord, which explained why Sirius still felt comfortable teasing him like that. Poor guy. He wasn't even fat, just a little on the chubby side, particularly next to the other three, who were tall and muscular. The incident was soon forgotten, however, as we approached the castle.

* * *

It had been six years to the day since I had first set foot in the Great Hall of Hogwarts, but it still never failed to impress me. The thousands of candles hovered, as always, over ten feet above our heads, the droplets of hot wax vanishing as they fell. We sat at the long house tables, waiting for the new students to file in and be sorted. James and Sirius were eyeing their plates, as though they hadn't packed away half a sweet shop during the journey. A few feet away, Nearly Headless Nick hovered, chatting to a couple of third-years, who still looked a little uneasy talking to someone who was dead.

Suddenly, with an imperious creaking, the huge doors swung open, and Professor McGonagall swept in with the First Years, some of whom were shaking. They gathered at the front of the hall, in front of the rickety stool on which sat the Sorting Hat. Everyone stared at it, waiting, until the rip near the brim opened, and the Hat began to sing.

_Twas near a thousand years ago_

_That Hogwarts School began_

_When the famous four together_

_Worked towards their greatest plan_

_Young Hufflepuff, she sought to teach_

_All those who wished to learn_

_To train up those who'd pass on_

_All their knowledge in their turn_

_Brave Gryffindor, a man of strength_

_Who prized those of the same_

_He picked those of the stoutest heart_

_To learn under his name_

_And Ravenclaw, of quickest wit_

_Taught those with sharpest mind_

_And all of those who would pursue_

_What learning they could find_

_Proud Slytherin, he chose just those_

_He thought were born to rule_

_But when arguments erupted_

_He left this noble school_

_So though you are divided_

_I shall now say aloud_

_Outside we stand together_

_So of Hogwarts School, be proud_

Applause erupted in the Great Hall when the Hat had finished its song. Sirius and James, earning them stern looks from several of the teachers, were shooting red and gold sparks into the air with their wands. Children to the last. Professor McGonagall began to call the names of the new students, and one by one they trooped up onto the stool to be Sorted. As the Hat shouted out the name of each House, the corresponding table cheered the new arrival. The boys, especially James and Sirius, made more noise than everyone else combined; shooting yet more sparks and ribbons into the air, along with several loud fireworks, which exploded above the Gryffindor table each time a new student joined us.

The ceremony seemed to take forever. I found myself thinking about what Remus had said on the train. This would be the last time that I would see this, and I still couldn't concentrate. I remembered my own Sorting so well. I'd stood there, trembling, waiting for my name to be called, and when it had I'd almost tripped over my own robes as I walked over the stool. The Hat had come down over my eyes, so it had just been me and its soft little voice inside my head.

"Hmm, interesting. A good amount of bravery, a sharp mind, keen to learn I see, possibly a good Ravenclaw... but then again there's trust. It's here, certainly, but that quick defensiveness is a little tricky. Maybe there's something a little deeper. Ah yes, here we are. That settles it. GRYFFINDOR!"

My dad had been so proud when I'd told him. The Phelans had been spread between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw for generations, but as a Gryffindor himself he'd secretly hoped that that would be where I was placed. So I'd ended up with Mary, Lily, Dorcas Meadowes and the boys. One big happy family. Of sorts.

Finally, Yelland, Fiona was made a Hufflepuff, and the Hat was carried away. The boys seemed to have calmed down somewhat, and were now staring expectantly at the table, willing food to appear there. However, it was at that moment Dumbledore stood up, spreading his arms and smiling down at us, blue eyes twinkling in the candlelight.

"Welcome," he said, "I hear stomachs rumbling so I will say only this: On egin!"

A few people laughed, but everyone else seemed to forget that Dumbledore even existed as food appeared before us. Once again, I found my resolve cracking when faced with the feast. Why did House Elves have to be such good cooks? I helped myself to some roast chicken, only half listening to Dorcas and Mary discussing lessons beside me. It was only when I heard my name that I looked up, but they stopped talking guiltily when I did.

"So, Cathy," Dorcas said to break the silence, "You said that Philip was getting married?"

Mary squealed excitedly, "I can't wait!" she said, "Do you know what you're wearing?"

I shook my head. "Haven't a clue," I said, "Mama will be taking me to buy a dress as soon as I get back for Easter. She's having enough trouble at the moment persuading the family to forego robes for a couple of days. Grandpa nearly reduced her to tears, he's so stubborn. But it'd be much better if Máiréad's family didn't find out that Philip's a wizard. They're staunch Catholics. Philip's lucky that Máiréad is more open-minded."

By now the puddings had appeared. Unsurprisingly, the boys dived in with gusto, while Lily looked on in disgust.

"They'll make themselves sick!" she exclaimed.

"They haven't yet," I replied, grabbing a slice of apple pie before it was snatched from under my nose. There wasn't much more talking as we all munched happily. Soon, the sparse remnants of pudding had also vanished, and once more, Professor Dumbledore stood up.

"Welcome," he said, "to the start of our new school year. To our new faces and some of our old, I must say that the forest in the grounds is strictly out of bounds, and I have been asked to remind by our caretaker all of you that the use of magic in the corridors will result in a punishment more terrible than you can possibly imagine." He smiled, "As always, it is also forbidden to approach the Whomping Willow, the unmistakably delightful tree in the grounds, for reasons that should be apparent." Suddenly, Professor Dumbledore's face became grave. "I need hardly remind you of the situation outside these walls. Lord Voldemort's forces are gathering more strength with every passing day. Therefore I must impress on all of you the fact that when you are in school, you are safe. The village of Hogsmeade has been fortified, so visits for those in the Third Year and above will continue until further notice. These circumstances are indeed terrible, but we cannot hope to defeat those who would harm us if we are fighting amongst ourselves. So I say this: remain vigilant, study hard and above all, have a good night's sleep. Off you go."

* * *

Over the summer, I'd really grown to miss the Gryffindor Common Room. At some point during the Sixth Year, the eight of us had started to spend hours in there together, often chatting well into the night, where before we'd split off into boys and girls. Tonight, however, we went straight up to our dormitories. Us girls were right at the top of the tower now, with a tiny plaque on the door marked 'Seventh Years'.

"It's strange, isn't it," said Mary, as we started to unpack, "Now we really are at the top of the school. It's going to be weird to say goodbye."

"Don't!" exclaimed Lily, "I don't want it to end!"

"None of us do," said Dorcas, already perched on the end of her bed in her blue pyjamas, "But we'll always have the memories."

In truth, I wasn't sure that I'd be able to bring myself to leave when the time came. It was quite possible that someone would have to physically prise my fingers from the castle gates one by one. I still didn't have a clue what I wanted to do when I left, much to Professor McGonagall's exasperation, and much as I loved Ireland, Hogwarts was my home.

It was only when we were all changed into our night things and snuggled into bed that the conversation turned to more light-hearted topics.

"So, Mary," said Lily, in a very business-like voice, "You can admit it now, or we'll keep pestering you. Your choice."

Mary tried to act innocent. "Admit what?"

"Oh, for goodness sake," Dorcas chimed in, "I'm just going to put my two Knuts worth in. I think you're crazy, Mary. You can do better."

"What do you mean?" Mary sat up in bed.

"I'm with Dorcas," I said, "It's not worth it."

"Why on earth would Sirius Black not be worth it?" Mary yelped, to triumphant whoops from the rest of us.

"So, she finally admits it!" crowed Lily, "But seriously, Mary, you know Sirius' track record."

"His track record's not that bad," said Mary, tossing her long hair over her shoulder, "You're exaggerating."

"That's where you're wrong. Cathy, retrieve The Compendium!" Lily said, waving her hand in a royal gesture. Dorcas rolled her eyes.

"Aye aye, cap'n!" I saluted, rummaging in my trunk until I found the pillowcase I'd stuffed at the bottom of it. Secreted inside it lay a red book, stuffed with tattered scraps of parchment. This was our Bible; the ever-growing project of our seven years at Hogwarts. Lily and I had begun The Compendium in our third History of Magic class, a collection of advice and information about Hogwarts, its students and teachers. Teenage silliness it may have been, but there were all sorts of useful titbits in there. I flicked through until I reached a section we'd titled _Boys and Other Such Beasts_. What can I say? We were 13 at the time and just starting to pay attention. Every boy we'd encountered or heard of had his own section, some only a name and a brief description of one incident, some stretched for pages and pages. We'd created whole other booklets for those we knew most about, which were stuffed haphazardly between the pages.

I cleared my throat. "Sirius Black. Gryffindor. Joined Hogwarts September 1971. Also known to his friends (see _The Maurauders_) as Padfoot."

"Yes, Cathy, I know who he is thank you." Mary looked a little annoyed.

"Skip to his Dalliances, Cath." Lily said. I turned to a later page, which was covered in tiny black scrawl. A number of loose sheets of parchment tumbled out, some with photographs attached, none with much space left.

"Sirius Black's first known Dalliance was in the Second Year. Confirmed flirtation with one Henrietta Bode and attempted seduction of same. Unsuccessful. Henrietta whacked him with her bag when he attempted to kiss her. However, later incidents show that she was clearly in the minority and unconfirmed rumours suggest that she may have relented at some point in the Fourth Year."

"You know, you two take this Compendium far too seriously," Mary said. Lily and I looked at her, horrified.

"The Compendium is a serious business," Lily said, tapping the book, "You've got to know your enemy, Mary."

"And what enemies would they be?" scoffed Mary.

We didn't reply, but I flipped to a page near the end of the book and handed it to her.

"The Perpetual Enemies of Woman?" she sounded scornful. "Are you being serious?"

"Incredibly." Lily said.

With a frustrated sigh, Mary began to read:

_Evans and Phelan's Infallible Guide to the Perpetual Enemies of Woman_

_Professor Hawkins - Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Notoriously harsh marker, and can reduce students to tears with a look. (Left Hogwarts July 1975 to be replaced by Professor Ditheridge.)_

_Magically-induced breezes and gust of winds – Stupid boys. You'd think they could be a bit more imaginative._

_Hogwarts feasts – A disputed foe. The yummiest food known to wizard-kind, but those lovely house elves seem unable to rest until we kind mistresses no longer need to waste our breath walking, and are able to simply roll around the castle._

_Sirius Black – Cold, callous womaniser. Avoid a romantic encounter __at all costs__._

_James Potter – A menace with scruffy hair (Testified – LE)_

_Moving staircases – Never, ever to be attempted in a short skirt._

_Butterbeer and chocolate – A false friend. Utterly deadly for the skin (well... some people's skin. – CP)_

_Flying in a skirt – You'd have thought that no one would be silly enough to try this. Think again._

_Enchanted Mistletoe – A Christmas nightmare. Any savvy Hogwartian girl will testify that this stuff _follows you around_, making you easy prey. Avoid if possible. (Not always an option. Just blast it. – LE)_

_Peeves – To tell the truth, a Perpetual Enemy of Everyone._

"You notice Black's on there?" I said.

"Yes, but so's Potter -"

"- who is also a pest." Lily cut in. "Mary, Sirius' track record is against him. Why would you want to just be a name on a list? You deserve so much better."

"I don't want better!" she shouted. "All those other guys, trying to pretend... don't you get it? I've liked him for ages, and that's not going to change, no matter what books you might shove in my face, so just grow up. All of you." With that, Mary stood up, brushed herself off and flounced out of the dormitory. Her footsteps echoed down the spiral staircase had long since faded away when Lily turned to me.

"Did you know she'd liked Sirius for ages?"

"Nope," I said, gathering up the scattered scraps of parchement, "but there are two possibilities. One, Sirius notices and they go out for a bit. He then dumps her after a week and leaves her emotionally wrecked for the rest of the year. Two, he doesn't notice, so she's mooning after him for the rest of the year."

"I'll go and see if she's OK," Dorcas said, and then a soft click as the door closed behind her.

Lily sighed, "Love 'em and leave 'em. Why can't the gorgeous guys be the nice ones?"

"Some gorgeous guys are nice..." I murmured sleepily, "And some nice guys are gorgeous."

Out of the corner, I saw Lily sit bolt upright as I said that. I buried my head under the covers; I had no desire to be interrogated just then.

* * *

**This is my first HP fanfiction, so I'd really appreciate any feedback you can give me. Criticism is welcome here! Also, if you enjoy the story, please recommend it to all your friends! But seriously, if there's anything at all that you don't like about the story (down to the tiniest detail) let me know. I'd also love to hear your opinions on how I portray the characters, whether you think Cathy is a good character, my poor attempts at humour, grammar, spelling, where you'd like it to go (even though I've already planned this!) and any details that don't quite sit with canon (other than my OCs). I've tried to keep it accurate in every way possible, so if there's anything that you spot please let me know (this includes any historical stuff as well!). I won't write a rambling Author's Note for every chapter, but I'd really like to hear what you lovely people think of my story! Remember the three Rs: Read, Review and Recommend! Thank you!**

**Kinti x**


	2. Rods and Rings

CHAPTER 2 - Rods and Rings

I was woken on this, the first day of my last year of Hogwarts lessons, by a pillow to the face.

"Mmph!" I threw it off me, and found myself looking into Lily's grinning face. Worryingly, she was grasping a second pillow ready, like a Beater's bat.

"Morning, Cathy!" she trilled, "Breakfast time!"

I groaned and rolled over onto my front. Unfortunately, Lily took that as a cue to whack me with the second.

"G'way," I mumbled, "Lemme sleep."

Lily sighed, and rolled me over, out of bed, so that I landed in a heap, tangled with my blankets, on the floor. I had to concede defeat. Somehow, the floor just wasn't as comfy as my warm fourposter. I got up as slowly as I could, while Lily watched me, hands on hips, with her Head Girl expression on. We were alone in the dormitory; Mary and Dorcas had clearly already left.

"Five minutes?" I begged.

"You can have five minutes," Lily turned on her heel and flounced through the door, a huge grin on her face, "To get ready!"

I sighed dramatically, and reached for my robes. After less than a day, the were already fairly crumpled. Typical. I threw them on, before starting on the mission of my hair.

Quite a bit more than five minutes later, I stared into the mirror as I once again tugged my hair into my usual plait, with a little help from my wand. My reflection sat there, grimacing as unruly strands of hair came unravelled and she had to redo large sections. It was annoying to have to do this every morning, but it was a thousand times easier than having it wafting around and being constantly in my face. While I twisted sections together, I appraised my face - a depressingly common habit. My skin was pale, but not the attractive ghostly shade that some girls boasted. I quite liked my eyes, which were exactly the same dark brown as my hair, and my lashes were fairly thick. I had, however, inherited a plague of Phelan freckles. Unlike my brother and the cousins who had been blessed with only a cute, faint spattering over their noses and cheeks, mine were everywhere. Like an army, they had conquered my cheeks, nose, forehead, neck and body. They'd become worse thanks to the summer sunshine, and I now had a fresh lot all over my earlobes of all places.

In body terms, I wasn't overly tall and slim in the way that Lily, Dorcas and Mary all were; quite the opposite. I was proud to say that I'd grown up in the last couple of years, in the emotional sense if not in the physical one. No, I was short and ever so slightly on the pudgy side. This meant that most people spent their time looking over the top of my head. A slight exaggeration, maybe, but I was still smaller than most of the Fourth Years now. I looked at my reflection critically, so that a slight crease appeared in her forehead. Nothing worth looking at compared to my stunning friends. I'd had the misfortune of being Sorted into the same house as three girls who were widely regarded as the best-looking in the year. Lily had the breathtaking combination of fiery red hair - and occasionally the temper to match - and bright emerald eyes. Mary was our resident blonde, with the obligatory huge blue eyes. By contrast, Dorcas' hair was dark, though her eyes were a stunning shade of grey. I sighed, and concentrating on coaxing my own hair into a finished plait, which I tied off with a red ribbon that Lily had given me - a way to display my Gryffindor loyalties. I'd just got it into a floppy bow when Lily walked in with Dorcas.

"You call that five minutes?" Lily asked, exasperated.

I grinned at her, "I'd have thought you'd have known better than to leave me alone getting up by now," I said, "I'm ready anyway."

"I like the ribbon, Cathy," Dorcas said, as she tidied up a stack of books on her bed, "Is it a permanent fixture?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but Lily beat me to it. "Of course," she said, "Gryffindor spirit and all that. There's going to be a lot more of it this year if we want to keep that Cup." Gryffindor were on a winning streak, thanks in no small part to our spectacular Quidditch team.

"And of course, Lily, your hair is a display of Gryffindor spirit all on its own." I ducked as yet another pillow went sailing over my head, before straightening up, laughing.

We all grabbed our bags and set off down the spiral staircase. Mary was slouched in one of the armchairs in the Common Room, and didn't see us come down, so I crept up behind her and gave her a hug.

"Oi!" she cried, batting me away, "Suffocating here, Cathy!"

"I'm sorry we teased you for fancying Black," I said, still not letting her go, "If you want him, you go get him!"

"I plan to," she said, grinning, "I overreacted, I'm sorry, you just managed to hit on the one thing that's wrong with him." She sighed, "Ah well. Shall we go down?"

"Are the boys up yet?" I asked.

"What do you think?" Lily snorted, "You can hear them snoring from here." She was right. The whole tower reverberated.

"Who let the lions in?" Dorcas whispered, almost doubled up laughing.

Well, if I was going to be rudely awakened I wasn't going to let anyone else avoid it. I started towards the boys' staircase, but Lily flung out an arm and held me back. I folded my arms and put on my moody face, which annoyingly just made her laugh.

"Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus, Cathy," she said, "Doubly true of sleeping boys."

"Fine," I pouted, "Let's get some food."

"I thought you were tired." said Lily, accusingly.

"Well, now I'm hungry."

It was only when we got to the Great Hall that I realised just how early Lily had woken me up. There were exactly three people already sitting and having breakfast. Professor Kettleburn always got up early; it was one of the job requirements of keeping demanding animals, and a couple of overly eager Ravenclaw First Years were practically bouncing out of their seats.

"Lily," I said, trying to sound dangerous, "Not funny." They all laughed.

"Getting up early's good for your health, Cath." said Lily breezily.

"It's not my health you need to worry about," I muttered, sliding onto the bench, grabbing some toast and settling down to wait for the boys and the new timetables.

It was nearly an hour before the former arrived, bedraggled and bleary eyed, but they perked up at the sight of food, and they all set about eggs, bacon and toast in a manner that made me very glad I'd already eaten.

Professor McGonagall swept down the table shortly after to distribute the latter. I took a deep breath.

"Professor," I said as she handed me my own, "I was wondering if I could put my name down for the Quidditch tryouts." Out of the corner of my eye, I saw James look up from his scrambled eggs, but I pretended not to notice. Professor McGonagall nodded.

"Which position?

"Chaser." I said, and James' eyes widened. McGonagall nodded and made a note on a piece of parchment.

"Mr Potter will let you know when he has decided when to hold them," she said, before moving further down the table to sort out Mary's timetable.

"You didn't say you were going to try out, Phelan," said James, surprised.

I shrugged. "Philip gave me some coaching over the summer," I said, trying to keep my voice even as his hazel eyes bored into mine, "This is my final year, so I thought I may as well give it a go." Actually, I'd almost applied every year since I'd become eligible, but always pulled out just before putting my name down. "I probably won't get it, but I just thought..." I tailed away hopelessly as a huge smile spread across his face. I was suddenly painfully aware that I was blushing furiously.

"See you at the trials then," he said, "We need some older players now that Longbottom and McKinnon have left." It was then that McGonagall accosted him about his own timetable, for which I was partly relieved. I preferred throwing a Quaffle to looking like one. Even more worryingly, I was fairly sure that James Potter knew perfectly well the effect he had on me.

I glanced at my timetable to distract myself and brightened. Ancient Runes followed by a free period. The prospect of my favourite subject never failed to cheer me up.

At that moment, Professor Ditheridge, the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, came bounding down the length of the Gryffindor table. Professor Ditheridge never walked anywhere. He was the true definition of 'a spring in the step'; so much so that he practically bounced everywhere. He was young, with mousy brown hair and twinkling blue eyes and was a brilliantly enthusiastic teacher. He'd managed to make it to his second year of teaching through a will of iron and a constant smile. What's more, he loved Gryffindor Seventh Years, simply because every single one of us was taking his subject, and worked hard at it.

"Ready for our first lesson?" he said, excitedly, "After lunch? I've got a little surprise planned." He tapped his nose, beaming, then waltzed out of the Great Hall. Sirius was watching him go with a look of disbelief on his face.

"Completely barmy," he said admiringly. Professor Ditheridge was one of the very few staff to whom he and James openly showed devoted respect, if only because Professor Ditheridge was willing to go beyond NEWT and teach us more advanced spells than the Ministery thought suitable.

"Padfoot, stop ogling Ditheridge," James said, elbowing him, "You've got post."

A flock of owls had indeed just descended on the Great Hall. A tawny owl was sitting in the middle of Sirius' plate, waiting patiently for him to remove the letter tied to its leg. Sirius looked grief-stricken.

"I was about to eat that!" he scolded the owl, undoing the cord. The only reply he got was a short hoot and a faceful of feathers as the owl flew away. I couldn't help but laugh at his expression, but it was cut short as something plummeted out of the air and smacked into my head. I didn't even need to look to see what it was.

"Morning, Icky," I said, gathering up the ball of feathers that was now slumped in my lap. I grinned when I saw the letter, with my name written on the front in royal blue ink. Philip's letter was short, which was unsurprising since it had been less than a day since I'd seen him last.

_Dear Citcath,_

_How was your first evening? In fact, how was your first day, or week even? I'm not sure when Icarus will arrive, but whenever it is, hopefully you're having fun! I know you love this little owl, but he's very unreliable. Anyway, there's nothing new here. Mama's only just getting in her stride with wedding plans, so you should be thankful that you're not here! It's raining, yet again, so of course Flanna's hiding. She's probably in the Turret; you know how much she loves your window seat - it'll be covered in ginger hair when you get back!_

_I may be coming down to Hogsmeade at some point, so let me know when your first weekend out is. The family and Máiréad send their love._

_Miss you already,_

_Philip_

I smiled. Icarus was the doziest owl I'd ever come across. I was certain that sometimes he simply forgot to flap! Philip was right though, I loved him to bits, possibly even more than Flanna. Our cat had been in the family as long as I could remember, and she was an utter wimp. At the merest hint of someone new, bad weather, loud noises or other animals and she'd be away in a flash of orange and white.

The girls were already preparing to leave, so I decided to reply to Philip later, and tumbled elegantly from the bench to join them.

"Are you coming to get books?" Dorcas asked the boys. Sirius looked up from his toast, scandalised.

"Meadowes," he choked, spraying crumbs everywhere, "We're still eating!"

"You've been eating for the past half-hour." Lily folded her arms and raised an eyebrow.

"But," Sirius' voice was soft and slow, as though talking to a child, "In case you hadn't noticed, Evans, there's still food on the table."

We left them to it.

* * *

Back up in our dormitory, we grabbed our books for our first lessons, all except Mary, who stood in the doorway looking uneasy.

"Are you alright, Maccy?" said Dorcas over her shoulder. Mary didn't answer.

"Cheer up, Mary," I called over, "Runes first!"

Ancient Runes lessons were brilliant, thanks to the fascinating subject and added to by a teacher who didn't mind if you passed notes, provided they were in the relevant language. I was keen to get to the lesson early. I'd bought several extra books over the summer, but was having a bit of difficulty with some bits of translation that I wanted to ask Professor Fulke for some help with.

Mary shifted uncomfortably. "Cathy," she said in a tiny voice, "I've dropped Ancient Runes. I spoke to McGonagall and I can spend the time on Care of Magical Creatures."

"But why?" I asked, "You're brilliant at Magical Creatures."

"I want to do as much as I can. I really want to get a place on the project in Greece next year, and they only take the best."

I didn't doubt her, but a tiny, selfish part of me was hurt. Mary and I had started Ancient Runes lessons together, and we always worked together. Mary looked at me hopefully.

"I was never any good at Runes anyway," she said hurridly, "I only got an A last year because you helped me."

"I wouldn't say -"

"No, Cathy," she said, "It's a subject that I don't need that I should have failed anyway. I'm sorry."

I smiled at her. "It's fine," I said, "I understand. I'll grab a seat next to Peter." Peter Pettigrew was the only other Gryffindor taking Ancient Runes and he was very good at it. We competed fiercely for top marks, much to Professor Fulke's delight and amusement.

Mary looked relieved, and hurried off to the first Care of Magical Creatures lesson, Dorcas and Lily in tow.

* * *

By the time I arrived on the fourth floor, it was too late to ask for extra help; most of the class had arrived save for Peter and Azalea Reid - a Ravenclaw. I was suddenly anxious. Unlikely as it was, what would I do if Peter had given up Ancient Runes too? It wasn't that I had no other friends, but other groupings were already clearly established within the class. I buried my head in 'Legends from Eire', trying to avoid everyone's eyes. Thankfully, Peter arrived a couple of minutes later, accompanied by Azalea.

I'd never had much to do with Azalea Reid before, even though we shared several subjects. She was one of those people who was disgustingly good at everything. She got incredible marks apparently without trying and was Keeper for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. To top it off, she was also revoltingly pretty, with poker-straight brown hair, blue eyes and a perfect figure. She was chattering away to Peter, who looked a little stunned at the attention. Poor guy. He was always pushed to one side a little when it came to girls. James and Sirius got attention from more girls than they could get through in a lifetime, though you had to give Sirius credit for trying. James, frustratingly, had had eyes for no one but Lily since Fourth Year. Remus had gone out with a couple of girls over the years, but was more concerned with friends and schoolwork. Poor Peter, on the other hand, was almost always completely ignored. It was a shame, because he was a lovely guy and not bad to look at, but he just didn't share the natural coolness and style and confidence that James and Sirius had in spades, so he was forever in their shadow.

It was then that Professor Fulke stuck his head round the door and called us into the classroom, so I took my usual place in the second row. A couple of people looked surprised to see the empty space beside me, but no one commented. Peter followed, and slumped in his place on the other side of me.

"Hi, Cathy," he said, "No Mary today?"

I shook my head. "She dropped it. Just you and me left now, buddy."

He grinned, "You can't claim that you're distracted now," he said smugly, "When I beat you it'll simply be because I'm better than you."

I laughed. "Actually, now that I have no distractions I'll just embarass you," I said, "You may as well just surrender now!"

"When everyone is comfortable," called Professor Fulke, with a pointed look at the two of us, "I'll get on with the lesson. This is your NEWT year. I will not tolerate anything less than total commitment to the subject. You all have the potential to do very well, but you'll need to work for it. Not a single one of you will be able to get by through laziness." He paused, looking around the classroom as though hoping to see some daunted faces. There were always some people who tried - and, annoyingly, often managed - to sail through lessons with no obvious effort. James Potter sprung to mind, although that was less than surprising. "Previously, in this final year," Professor Fulke continued, "I have organised a trip to Denmark, in order to study original runic carvings. However, given the current... situation, all excursions beyond Hogsmeade have been prohibited for your own safety."

Disappointed moans echoed throughout the class. Everyone enjoyed getting out of the classroom once in a while, but it would have been unrealistic to expect that the teachers would be willing to put us at risk like that.

"Open your books at page twenty-three," Professor Fulke called out over the chatter, "Translate the engraving in pairs, and note down possible answers to the riddles. You have fifteen minutes."

I turned to Peter. "Let the battle commence." I said, whipping out my quill like a sword. He grinned, and copied my gesture.

"You're on."

* * *

An hour later, I skipped out of the Ancient Runes classroom, scanning one of the translations we'd been given for homework, unfortunately not looking where I was going. Fortunately, however, the person I managed to walk straight into happened to be Sirius.

"Ouch!" he said, rubbing his side, "You know, some people just say 'hello'."

"Well, I thought I'd try something a bit more original," I said, looking up from my book.

Sirius muttered something to himself. It sounded oddly like 'lunatic', but he grinned, and barged into me.

"Hello to you, too," he said, "So, what have you got now?"

"A free period," I said, "You?"

"Herbology," he groaned, "Useless subject. When, while fighting Death Eaters, am I going to need to know how to care for a Speckling Shrub?"

I shrugged. I'd dropped Herbology at the end of Sixth Year, after I'd realised that what I needed to know about plants - namely, whether they were poisonous or not - I could easily find out for myself with a little help from the library.

"Anyway," Sirius went on, giving me a quick hug, "Enjoy your free. See you, Tart!" Fabulous. He hadn't forgotten that stupid name.

After Sirius had turned the corner, I heard an outbreak of chattering and muttering behind me. A gaggle of Sixth Year Ravenclaw girls were giving me looks that could by no stretch of the imagination be described as friendly.

"Erm... hi?" I said, giving them a little wave.

"What on _earth_," said one, a very tall girl with long, straight blonde hair that she tossed around a lot, "Is Sirius Black doing giving _you _a hug and a nickname?" She and the rest of them folded their arms, glaring at me.

"Why shouldn't he?"

"Well, you're not exactly his friend." This came from a girl with spiky black hair, Marianne Something...

"What makes you say that?"

They laughed at that.

"Well," said Blondie, her eyes raking up and down, "A nickname like 'Tart' _is _fairly appropriate, I'll admit, but _look _at you," she sniffed, "I mean, you're _hardly _in his league, are you."

Now, I'm normally the first person to admit that I'm no beauty by anyone's standards, but it was her assumptions about Sirius' character that had me riled.

"Well, _maybe_," I said, mimicking her snooty voice, "The _Great _Sirius Black isn't as _shallow _as you, and maybe he _does _count me as one of his friends. And _maybe _he sometimes gives his friends hugs. And _maybe _The Great Sirius Black thought it would be _funny _to call Catherine Phelan 'Flan' or 'Tart'." I turned to go, but Blondie leapt forwards and grabbed my arm. She looked furious.

"Back away from Sirius Black," she hissed, "You're just wasting your time. It's pathetic."

I smiled amiably, which seemed to annoy her more. "Oh, don't worry," I said, "I have no designs on Sirius, but maybe if you're persistent enough, you'll be his Flavour of the Week one day."

I wrenched my arm out of her grip and made to walk away, but she and her group drew their wands. I mimicked them, wanting to hex them all into next week, but I didn't fancy my chances. One solitary Gryffindor against eight Ravenclaws didn't bode well, even if they were all younger than me. I was half-disappointed when Professor Ditheridge rounded the corner and prevented any chance of a duel. Maybe that's the Gryffindor courage that everyone goes on about.

"Come on now, ladies," he said to the Ravenclaws, "Eight against one? That's hardly fair. How about you leave poor Miss Phelan alone?"

Blondie tossed her hair, batting her eyelashes. "We didn't want any trouble, Professor," she simpered, "But we were provoked. She seemed determined to fight us, so of course, we had to be prepared to defend ourselves."

Her display had my eyes rolling, but thankfully Professor Ditheridge saw right through it.

"Well, magic is forbidden in the school corridors, ladies, for you as well as for Miss Phelan, so wands away please," he gestured to me, "Catherine, I want a word about my lesson later."

I followed him, all too aware of the glares being directed at me. Honestly, if looks could kill I'd be seriously unwell. When we'd put three corridors between us and the Ravenclaws, Professor Ditheridge turned to me.

"Don't go looking for trouble within the school, Cathy," he said, his face surprisingly grave, "There are enough people outside these walls who would want to hurt you. Please don't add to that list." And he walked away, leaving me speechless.

* * *

Professor Ditheridge's strange behaviour seemed to have passed the next time I saw him. He walked with the eight of us to his classroom after lunch, chattering away about curses while the boys hung on his every word. It was a relief to finally have a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher who actually knew his stuff. Professor Ditheridge had trained to be an Auror and had travelled to Europe with several others to round up Dark Wizards who were gathering there, hoping to rally around the memory of Grindelwald. Professor Ditheridge preferred not to talk about this particular trip, but Slughorn had told us that he had been almost single-handedly responsible for an ambush on a camp near the remains of Nurmengard. Small wonder that James and Sirius - both of whom were hoping for a similar future - idolised him so much.

The excited chatter of the whole class died down as we took our seats. Professor Ditheridge skipped boyishly up to the front of the room, and beamed at us from beside his desk.

"Right, lads," he said, "This is your final year at school. Not that you need me to tell you that. I have absolute confidence in every single one of you acing your NEWTs, if you put in a bit of effort, so I won't bore you with a pep-talk about exams. Let's get straight on to the good stuff." Whipping out his wand, he muttered something under his breath. Suddenly, a huge, white shape erupted out of the end of his wand and bounded up and down the classroom - a spaniel of some kind. The whole class cheered. I'm don't think that any of us had ever seen a corpeal Patronus before. Professor Ditheridge grinned at the dog, which was now chasing its own tail above our heads.

"The Patronus Charm is complex, but can be mastered by an able wizard if he has a strong and determined enough mind," Professor Ditheridge called out, trying to calm the class, "Is anyone not familiar with the idea of a Patronus?"

No one put up their hand. We'd all heard or read about Patronuses - Dementors and Lethifolds were two of the creatures most feared across the world.

"Well then," Professor Ditheridge said, "Let's get started. The essence of a Patronus is happiness. It makes sense, doesn't it? It embodies everything that a Dementor feeds on, thus protecting you. The incantation is simple, the application less so. What the spell requires is a happy memory; the happiest memory or thought that you can bring to mind. Concentrating on the memory, utter the words." Two words appeared on the blackboard as he spoke. _Expecto patronum_. "Right, then. Enough talking. Off you go! We have a double lesson. Maybe we'll get a couple of Patronuses by the end."

A couple of people looked stunned at being asked to perform such a well-known spell just like that. Sirius and James, however, had already started. Both had screwed up their faces in concentration, wearing identical pained expressions. I cast my mind about for a happy memory. At random, I chose the first time that I'd beaten Philip at wizards' chess. My competitive older brother wasn't one for willingly letting me win! I focused, picturing Philip's exact expression and trying to recreate the pride I'd felt as I'd checkmated him. Carefully, I said the words on the board.

"Expecto patronum!"

Nothing. If I was honest I wasn't surprised. I glanced around the classroom. No one had succeeded yet - most people were standing with eyes closed and wand-arms outstretched.

It was about five minutes later that something happened. Suddenly, Lily squealed, breaking everyone's concentration. A small jet of white had burst from the tip of her wand - not quite smoke, but something that didn't have a solid form. Professor Ditheridge was ecstatic.

"Twenty points to Gryffindor, Miss Evans!" he cried, "Well done! Now, just focus on your memory. The stronger it is, the more defined the shape will be."

Over that first lesson, quite a few people managed to achieve the same result as Lily. My own efforts were predictably poor - I may have produced a tiny wisp of white stuff about forty minutes in, but I wasn't sure and I definitely wasn't going to start crowing about such a poor result. My memory clearly wasn't strong enough. I searched for a better one, and while I was lost in thought, a couple of people started cheering. I glanced over. Lily was standing, a look of utter triumph on her face, with a beautiful silver doe cantering around her.

"Our first success!" Professor Ditheridge cried, "Fantastic, Miss Evans, another thirty points to Gryffindor!"

After this first, everything seemed to happen at once. Sirius and James cheered behind me at exactly the same time, and two massive shapes went shooting over my head, making me duck. Five minutes later, Azalea Reid, who was in the front row, managed to get a white swallow to join the other three.

My chess memory, while a proud one, clearly wasn't happy enough. When had I been more happy than at any other point in my life? I looked over at Remus, who was standing with his wand raised, his whole face screwed up in concentration.

"First friend," I murmured, "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

A burst of silvery-white stuff burst out of my wand - not quite a gas - and formed itself into a shape. A squirrel, only slighty larger than life, scampered around me with tufted ears and a thick bushy tail.

Lily looked over from where she stood, her silver doe next to her, and laughed.

"A red squirrel?" she said, "Only you, Cath."

"Only me what?"

"Only you would have a colour-specific monochromatic Patronus."

I looked back at my squirrel, which was innocently sitting up and washing its face. I could have sworn it was smiling.

"They're cute, aren't they," I said to Peter, who was stood next to me. Small jets of white kept bursting from his wand, but so far they hadn't taken on any form. I heard snickering behind me. Sirius and James were smirking as their Patronuses met. A huge, shaggy dog faced an even bigger stag with majestic antlers.

"Careful with that one, Sirius," I called, "It looks mangy."

He grinned at me. "What about yours, Tart?" he said, "What does it say about you?"

"Well you know me, mate," I winked, "I love me some nuts!"

Professor Ditheridge had chosen that moment to walk past. Thankfully, he didn't comment, but a small smile flickered across his face before he went to help a couple of Hufflepuffs.

Just then, a massive silver wolf came bounding over, with Remus standing behind it, beaming. He held out a hand, and James flicked him a Galleon, scowling. However, his expression brightened when he saw Lily's Patronus.

"Meant to be, Evans," he called.

Lily's eyes flicked between the stag and the doe, and narrowed. "Just my luck," she muttered.

A whole plethora of silver animals were now bounding around the classroom, surrounded by laughing Seventh Years. Mary was staring towards the ceiling, where a rabbit ambled through thin air. Next to her stood Dorcas, who was sending her duck Patronus in different directions with small flicks of her wand.

"You'll find it easy to keep you're Patronus around once you've conjured it," Professor Ditheridge shouted out, "If your mood stays constant it will stay with you. I shouldn't have to tell you that it's much harder when Dementors are around." He grinned like an excited schoolboy, and then continued his patrol of the classroom.

Suddenly, a bout of cheering erupted from the back of the room. Peter was bouncing up and down, thrilled, as a rat Patronus ran around him.

"Well done, Wormtail," said James, clapping him on the back. The boys' Patronuses gathered together in a small circle, watching each other.

"I didn't realise that something like a nickname could affect something so intrinsic as a Patronus," said Dorcas, curiously, "That's fascinating."

At her words, the boys looked a little uneasy, but were saved from replying by Professor Ditheridge.

"Seeing as you are so accomplished and clever, let's see you try and control them." He flicked his wand, and a set of golden hoops and poles appeared in the air, hovering near the ceiling. Faint golden arrows hung around them. "Mr Black, you first."


End file.
